re misinterpreted; frantic endeavours were made to hound him out of
the public life of opera; his publishers took advantage of his poverty
to try to rob him; the scores of his masterpieces were returned
unopened from theatres--in some cases they were not returned, and he
had infinite difficulty to secure them; moreover, he was ill all his
life: yet he never lost faith in mankind, and when he became,
comparatively, a well-to-do man he went on doing generous deeds as
though nothing had happened. With humbugs and pretenders he would have
no dealings; but no genuine young artist ever asked his help in vain.
He spared even that rancorous decadent Nietzsche; he owned his
obligations to that soul of chivalry, Liszt. He spared that mediocre
person Meyerbeer; he treated Mendelssohn with almost exaggerated
courtesy. He fought a terrific fight with all the forces of reaction
and stupidity, and he came through untainted, unstained; if he sorely
belaboured the charlatans, he had all the finest musicians, and all
other fine artists, on his side. The composer who won and held the
friendship and esteem of such men as Liszt, Cornelius, Jensen, Tausig
and Buelow, not to mention the admiration of our own Swinburne, is not
a man to be dismissed by enumerating his defects. Some of us, I
suppose, will admit that we may possibly have our defects: none of us,
so far as I know, can possibly claim his great qualities.

He was rather an undersized man with an uncontrollable temper. As he
let himself go in his music, so did he let himself go in his daily
life. To any but the most patient he must have proved an impossible
personage; Madame Cosima Wagner must have possessed the temper of an
angel and the understanding of an archangel to put up with him. We see
that every one did put up with him; every one who knew him had the
same faith in his genius as he himself had; every one who knew
him--really knew him--loved him. Those who did not know him belaboured
him in the press or by word of mouth, and much honour and profit did
they get by it. He stands unsmirched by the mud thrown by his
detractors; he stands undamaged even by the adulation of his admirers.

Let us consider for a moment what the man's personal character and
momentum enabled him to achieve. Finely endowed personalities like
Mozart and Chopin did much: did they write a _Ring_ or a _Tristan_?
The question needs no answer. Did they or the still mightier Beethoven
dream of creating a Bayr